Pole Jumper
by Rainnboots
Summary: When a Winchester is standing on the hand-rail of a bridge, hand barely gripping the light post as he weighs jumping, who's there to talk to him down? His brother, of course. Teen!Chester angsty, brotherly comfort.
1. Prologue

**Author's Note:** A one-shot I felt like splitting up into three parts. Started in July, FINALLY finished in September.

**Reviews:** Are like Peanut M&M's in the middle of a Wendingo-ridden forest.

**Disclaimer:** Blah blah, yeah I don't own anything...

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He stood, feet tucked between the concrete and the rail as he gripped the lamp post. He backhanded the tears from his eyes. He shook his head.

"Nobody cares. Nobody _cares_."

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**End part one.**


	2. Pole Jumper

**Author's Note:** Here's the actual story.

**Reviews:** We need to go over this again?

**Disclaimer:** Own nothing.

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Dean furrowed his eyebrows, hands resting on his hips as he looked around the small motel room.

"Hey Dad?" said Dean.

John grunted from the old, dirty table, his mouth moving silently as he counted out bullets.

"You seen Sam anywhere?" Dean cleared his throat uncomfortably, eyes dropping to the floor. "I haven't seen him since your fight earlier. And that was two hours ago."

"He probably just went for a walk; he likes to do that."

"He usually says something, though. I didn't even see him leave."

John packed the last of his things into a duffle bag and stood up.

"You don't think something happened, do you?"

"He's fine, Dean." said John, searching for his keys.

Dean tightened his jaw and looked at his father with a confused look on his face.

"Where are you going?"

"Bobby's got a hunt out in Alabama; a werewolf."

"What about Sam?"

"Dean, your brother's fine." said John. He grabbed his jacket. "I should be back in three or four days."

"Dad-"

"Look, if he's not back by midnight, get in your car and go look for him. Sam's stubborn but he's not an idiot; he can take care of himself."

Dean sighed.

"And rest that leg of yours; that Wendingo got you pretty good. Don't forget to change the bandage."

The door closed and Dean stared at the old wood for a moment.

"Yes sir." Dean said quietly, picking up the first aid kit and sitting on the ratty couch. He pulled out the alcohol, gauze, and medical tape. He pulled up his jean leg and pealed off the bloodied bandage. He quickly cleaned and dressed the wound, staring at the phone on the bedside table all the while.

"Jesus, Sammy." Dean sighed, shaking his head. "You better not be doing something stupid."

Dean stuffed the three things back into the box and shut it closed. He ground his hands together as he watched the clock.

11:17.

He stood up, inhaling sharply as pain shot through his leg. Dean let out a deep breath, grabbed his keys, and locked the door behind him.

**--**

Dean's thumbs drummed nervously against the steering wheel, Metallica playing unnoticed in the Impala's tape player. His eyes glued to the outside, his heart beat a little faster in his chest.

"Come on, Sam." said Dean. "I know you didn't go that far."

Dean pulled up to a bridge and stopped, three fences blocking any cars. He rubbed his tired eyes and yawned loudly, reaching his hand down to shift the Impala into reverse. He almost missed the person standing on the side.

Sam's tall figure, dwarfed by the distance, was illuminated in the moonlight, his body swaying with the light wind as his sweatshirt shielded him from the cold. The air left Dean's lungs and his foot hovered just above the gas, his eyes wide in shock.

"No." said Dean, shaking his hand. "No. That's not Sam. It's nobody, nothing's there."

Dean shut his eyes tightly, giving his head a shake before opening his eyes again. The person was still standing there, his head staring at the ground below him. Dean threw open the car door, slamming it closed as he walked onto the bridge.

Dean's breathing picked up as he walked closer, his throat dry as a knot formed in his stomach. This isn't Sam. Sam isn't an idiot, he would never do this; he's got a future ahead of him, college, a family. He wouldn't try and jump off a bridge. Dean stopped, twenty feet away from the person standing on the ledge, and he almost gasped: it was Sam. Long haired, book-smart, bean pole Sam.

A foot slipped out from beneath the hand rail, being placed on top of the shiny metallic. The other foot joined it. Dean's mouth went dry and his heart felt like it was being squeezed, his lungs heavy.

"S-Sam?" The word came out quiet and squeaky, he wasn't sure Sam would even hear it. Sam's body jumped and he gropped wildly for the lamp post, Dean's heart almost stopping. Sam looked at Dean.

"Dean?" said Sam. "What are you doing here?"

"What am _I_ doing here?" said Dean. "What the hell are you doing here?!"

"Dean, please, just go." said Sam, his voice weary and sad. "I don't-"

"God couldn't get me to move right now, Sam." said Dean. "Now you get down from that pole right now."

"No. I'm 16 and you can't order me around anymore."

"Sam, I said get down."

"I'm not getting down."

"Now, Sam."

"No!"

"I said get down from the goddamn rail, Sam!" shouted Dean, cold sweat on his neck.

"NO!" Sam's voice was loud and commanding, completely sure of what he was saying.

"You're not jumping off the bridge, Sam."

"Yes I am."

"No, you're not."

"What's stopping me?"

"I am." said Dean.

"I'm jumping, Dean. And unless you actually want to see it, you should leave."

"I'm not leaving till you're sitting in the car with me."

"Then you're gonna be here a while."

"No I'm not." said Dean. He walked towards Sam, ready to yank him away from the edge and drag him to the car, when Sam slid the other foot onto the hand rail, barely hanging onto the light post. Dean stopped, barely ten feet away from him.

"Sam," said Dean, his voice wavering. "Get over here."

Sam shook his head. "No. There's no point in it."

"What the hell are you talking about?" Dean asked.

"Exactly that! There's no point in _me_ anymore! Life would be easier if I wasn't here."

"I don't know where you got that screwed up of a picture of yourself but no, Sam, it would not be easier." said Dean.

Sam laughed humorlessly, shaking his head.

"Of course it would! All I do is fight with Dad and mess up hunts. You don't have to pretend like you want me with you guys anymore."

"We don't _pretend_ to want you, Sam. You got that? We do actually care about you."

"Yeah right." Sam mumbled.

"Yeah, I am right!" said Dean. "Now get down so I can take you back to the motel room."

"No, I'm not going back to Dad."

"Just listen to me, Sam. We can go back and I'll let you be by yourself. Dad just left for a hunt anyway."

"Typical." said Sam. "Doesn't even stop to think something could be wrong with his son."

"Well obvoiusly, Dad didn't realize his son could be this stupid!" said Dean.

"What did you just say?" Sam asked.

"I said you're being stupid, Sam, because you are! Jumping off a bridge is not going to solve _anything_, no matter what you think. Dad was out of line tonight, I get that, but that doesn't give you the right to take a swan dive off a bridge into half-frozen water in the dead of night!"

In the tense silence that followed, Dean wondered what was running through Sam's mind. He was saddened to get the answer.

"I'm just a burden." Sam muttered, eyes on the water below him.

"Sam, why would you even think that?" said Dean. "You're not a-"

"I heard Dad telling Bobby, Dean!" said Sam. "He said I can be such a burden sometimes, so stubborn and defiant."

"Dad wouldn't say that." said Dean, heat creeping into his face from anger and shock.

"Well he did!" said Sam. "He would lie if you ask him, though, so I wouldn't bother trying. And he's right, anyway."

"No he's not."

"Don't act like life wouldn't be easier if I wasn't around." said Sam, annoyance in his tear laden voice.

"Dammit, Sam no it wouldn't!" shouted Dean.

"Oh shut up! Like hunting wouldn't go so much faster if it was just you and Dad, like it wouldn't be a lot quieter if I wasn't there to fight with him. You can't look me in the face and honestly say that all that's not true."

Dean stared at Sam, his jaw tightening as Sam raised his eyebrows. He swallowed.

"Your right, I can't." said Dean. Sam shook his head and opened his mouth to speak, but Dean cut him off. "But that _doesn't mean _I don't _want_ you around. Who do you think's gonna keep secrets for me? Who do you think I'm gonna talk to? I'm sure as Hell not gonna tell Dad about the blonde I just laid last weekend."

Sam looked back down at the water.

"You're not a burden, Sam. You're my little brother and I'm telling you right now to get down from that pole."

Sam was silent, tears in his deep brown eyes as he stared at the calm waters below him.

"If it means anything to you, right after you left Dad was so mad at himself he wouldn't come out of the bathroom for half an hour." said Dean.

"Really?" Sam whispered. Dean nodded.

"Then why did he leave?" asked Sam.

"I don't know, Sammy." Dean sighed. "He knew that you just wanted to blow off some steam by yourself for a while, and Bobby needed help. And I can tell you that without a doubt, if you go through with this that Dad would inever/i, for as long as he lives, forgive himself. He loves you, Sam. He may not say it but he does."

One of Sam's hand was over his eyes, shaky breaths making fog in front of his face.

"You're a brilliant kid, Sam. A brilliant _man_, with a thousand open doors in front of you. But if you step off that bridge, you're gonna die an idiot." said Dean. "I don't want that for you, Sam. I want you to go and be better than Dad, better than me, I want you to have a good life. You won't get that if you jump."

Tears soaked into Sam's sleeve at Dean's words, shoulders shaking ever so slightly.

"So please, just get down and come back home with me." said Dean. "Please."

Dean watched as slowly, one foot slid to the near-safety between the median and the handrail, the other beginning to follow suit. Dean cautiously walked toward Sam, Sam weakly stretching out his hand for Dean to hold. Dean grabbed onto it and held tightly, using his other hand to hold onto Sam's arm and help him down. Dean inhaled deeply, not realizing he had been holding his breath, and Sam stared at the ground. Sam's eyes just peeked over his hair, shamefully looking at his brother.

"I'm sorry." Sam's voice broke, tears pooling to the ground. Dean's jaw tightened and he grabbed either side of Sam's head, fingers clamped through the hair.

"Don't you ever," Dean shut his eyes to blink back his tears. "_ever_ do that again. Understand?"

Sam's chin quivered, eyes darting away from Dean's.

"Do you understand me?"

"Yes." Sam whispered. Before he knew it, Dean's arms were wrapped around him and squeezing, chin resting on his shoulder.

"Dammit Sammy I though I was gonna lose you." Dean whispered. "You scared me."

"I'm sorry." Sam offered again. "I just... I don't know."

Dean let go of Sam, letting out a deep breath.

"Dean?"

"Yeah?"

Sam struggled with words, eyes meeting his brother. "Don't tell Dad, okay?"

"Sam, this is-"

"I want to tell him."

Dean stared, shocked, at his younger brother.

"This is my issue and I need to work it out." said Sam.

"Okay, then." said Dean. "You can tell him when he gets back."

Sam looked at the ground.

"Thanks." said Sam. "I would be halfway down the river if you didn't come looking for me. You're a pretty good brother."

"You're not too bad yourself, Sasquatch." said Dean, patting Sam on the arm. Sam smiled weakly, wiping his nose.

"Now come on, I'll pick us up some McDonalds on you."

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**End part two.**


	3. Epilogue

**Author's Note:** Epilogue time!

**Reviews: **Are the best.

**Disclaimer:** Don't own it.

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Sam looked up from his book as a key turned in the lock, Dean walking out of the bedroom. The door opened and John walked through, a single bag on his back and a bit of dirt on his face.

"Hey boys." said John, a smile on his worn face.

"Hey Dad." said Dean.

"Hi," Sam said quietly.

"Everything go okay while I was gone?" John asked. Dean's eyes looked to Sam for a moment.

"Yeah, everything was fine. Nothing to crazy." said Dean. "Sammy put some jalapenos on his rabbit food last night, though. Pretty adventurous if you ask me."

John chuckled, back turned as he unpacked a few things.

"Dean, I want to have a word with Sam real quick." said John. Dean saw Sam swallow, and took one quick glance before nodding and going back into the bedroom.

"Dad-" Sam began.

"Sam, I'm talking." said John. He sat down on the coffee table in front of Sam.

"Yes sir." Sam mumbled.

"I wanted to apologize for how I left the other day." said John. "I was frustrated, and I went out of line."

"Dad, it's okay, really." said Sam. "It was just a stupid fight."

"That's the only time we ever seem to talk, Sam. When we have those 'stupid fights'. I don't want those to happen anymore, okay?"

"Yes sir." said Sam. John patted his knee, Sam watching his fingers as John went back to his bag.

"Dad?" said Sam, standing up. Dean walked cautiously out from the bedroom, cleaning rag in hand. Sam looked back at Dean and Dean gave him a reassuring nod as John turned around.

Sam swallowed.

"I-I have something I need to tell you."

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**End.**


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